How It Ends
by mercedesray
Summary: Erica/Callie fanfic/femmeslash. Reviews requested and enjoyed, this might encourage me to expand on exactly how it ends. Note: Added Chap. 2, which is from Callie's persepctive, and predates Chapter 1. Ch. 3 is Hahn. Chap. 4 is the final chapter. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Erica Hahn knows how this will end.

Her life is a series of repeating cycles, a Sisyphean struggle forced upon her by her own ego. Her move to Seattle Grace was a direct result of the most recent descent of her rock to the base of her mountain – the meteoric rise of Dr. Preston Burke.

Preston was the head of cardio-thoracic medicine, a man that eased himself into the fraternity of heart surgeons just as easily as he socialized his way onto the hospital advisory board. She had loved him in medical school, fell hard and fast – for five years, she idolized and idealized a man that treated her as nothing more than an indentured servant in the operating room. Even in moments of clarity, she still thought he meant it when he said he loved her. She continued to push her rock uphill.

They broke up with they graduated. Preston got the valued job at Seattle Grace, and Erica bided her time. While he began to spend more time at black-tie hospital soirees than under the surgical lights, she became more and more confident in her abilities. His social star began to rise just as fast as her surgical one, seemingly in tandem but towards different apexes.

She moved into Grace after Burke left for clearer skies. To protect herself, she made a list (not the first, not the last) –The List of Things she would NOT do at Seattle Grace:

No relationships with men who work at Seattle Grace.

No friendships with her residents.

No socialization with coworkers outside of the hospital.

#1 was easy. The bulk of the sexual tension she felt at work came directly from Dr. Mark Sloan, a man with a reputation for romancing all women at the hospital at the same time. He was good for banter and nice eye candy, but this was the kind of man for which #1 was penned. Good-natured flirting seemed to satisfy him and allowed her to do her work uninterrupted.

Christina Yang was the test of the strength of #2. She was a hopeful, talented resident whom, Erica knew, had her heart broken by Preston Burke. When Erica learned the story, she could barely stand to look Yang in the eye. Where was this woman's self respect? How could Erica teach her when she couldn't stand to be in the same room with her, equating her mistake with Yang's? So she did the only thing she knew how to do: push back. She never said 'yes' to anything Yang requested. She forced the resident to beg for scrub-ins and experience. She closed her eyes and pretended that this was the right thing to do. No sympathy – no friendships.

#3 turned out to be her downfall. After a gruesome and grueling surgery in her second week, she begged Dr. Sloan and Dr. Torres to go out drinking with her. She needed escape, she needed allies – she realized that she did not work in a bubble. Dr. Callie Torres was the most willing, she was an excellent pool player even if she couldn't hold her alcohol like Erica could. And she was fun – a true free spirit – a rich girl that had refused to take the easy route.

Erica had been a quiet kid, a reader. She'd had a few friends in high school, but her books and her grades always rode shotgun. Not much changed in college, she'd dated a few boys but never really had the time or the patience to explore relationships. Then, in med school there was Dr. Burke, of course. But had it really been love? At the time, she thought yes – wasn't love a deep admiration, a desire to know everything that the lover knows, a want to become that other person? She could see now that wasn't healthy, her awe of the abilities of the surgeon was not love.

Callie Torres was the brightest star that Erica had ever seen. When Callie lit up a room, Erica was constantly amazed that no one else besides her felt the need to shade their eyes. Her laugh was a gorgeous deep sound that, once Erica had heard, became her holy grail. She'd tell every joke she knew just to hear that laugh. And the best part of Callie was that she was her true friend, Erica felt she could tell her about Preston Burke, her lists, high school, her rock – and Callie would understand.

Her awe of Callie extended beyond the Latina's stunning good looks, huge warm smile, cunning dance moves, and that laugh. Callie was a survivor – she went through rejection, embarrassment and divorce under the watchful eye of her ex-husband's friends and mistress – and she not only survived, but she soared. She never lost her spirit, her internal knowledge that no matter what happened to her in the physical world, mentally she would always survive. Erica could not help but admire that strength – most women she knew were criers, self-pitiers, and weak. Rare was a woman who had admirable male traits combined with the most powerful feminism and beauty to counterbalance it. Erica was deep in love.

She did not know the next step – there were no lists she could create to guide her in this wilderness. Erica treated their friendship as a bizarre tennis match, where there were no time limits and the laws of physics did not apply to the tennis ball. She'd hit a volley into Callie's square – for example, she kissed her in the elevator, under the premise of teasing Mark Sloan, but really to see what the return volley would look like. It took about a week, but with the ball in her court, Callie hit back. She played along, joking about the alternative lifestyle and Erica, her gay lover, to Mark Sloan.

She never lost tennis matches that she wanted to win. Erica Hahn knew how this would end.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Callie Torres could sense it – something important was about to happen.

She forgot how much Addison liked to drink – the woman was already on her third, while Callie was struggling with her first beer. It was good to have Addison back in Seattle – if only for a couple of days.

"Well, suppose I never ever met George," Callie proposed.

"Then no torrid affair, no marriage, no divorce…." Addison paused. "But here's the thing – what doesn't kill us…" She lifted her glass and Callie clinked her bottle to it, finishing her last swig. Both women's heads turned automatically at the sound of Joe's creaky tavern door and they smiled when Mark Sloan strolled in.

"I need another drink," Callie headed to the bar. Mark sidled up next to her.

"Poison tonight?"

"No, just beer. I have to scrub in early tomorrow."

"Come on, one shot. I'm celebrating!"

"What is the occasion?"

"You." Callie blinked and then blinked again. "And Addison. And that one…" Mark tilted his toward the door, where Erica Hahn had just taken off her trench coat and was working to close her umbrella. He smiled conspiratorially. "I can't help it – she's just so…"

"So not into you," Callie pointed out, motioning to Joe that she'd have that shot now. Quickly she downed the drink and ordered another for herself. Erica was still near the door, and Callie figured she'd need these shots to help her deal with Erica, Mark, and the ever-observant Addison all night. After lunch, after Addison pointed out the extreme closeness of Callie's friendship with Erica, Callie's head began to spin. And it kept spinning all day long. Erica Hahn was lots of things – brilliant, dedicated, witty, beautiful – but Erica Hahn wasn't gay. She had confessed her past with Burke over a long night of drinking. And Callie knew that she herself wasn't the least bit gay. So why the nerves?

"Hey, that's not fair. She just doesn't know the real me yet," Mark carried his and Callie's drinks over to Addison's table. "Addison – remind Dr. Torres. I am an irresistible force!"

Addison shook her head, and then she and Callie burst into simultaneous laughter. Mark's face flushed slightly, but he didn't laugh at all. He narrowed his eyes, grimaced, and backed away from the table – quickly finding a group of friends playing darts to join.

Erica walked up just as Callie was wiping the tears from her eyes.

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing!" Addison started laughing again. Erica sat down next to Callie, the blond's left thigh touching hers and giving Callie a full-body electrical shock before she shifted her own leg away. She blushed, looking down at her shoes, hoping Addison wouldn't notice. Despite the strange feelings she'd had all day, Callie was glad that Erica showed up. She wanted to clear the air with her and Addison about this whole Vagina Monologues thing.

"You're not going to believe what she – " Erica cut Callie off, suddenly leaning in close and reaching towards her lips.

"Wait, you've got…a hair… stuck in your lip gloss." Erica gently removed the hair, and fluffed Callie's long black curls back over her shoulder. "Okay, it's gone." Callie's eyes widened, she looked directly at Addison, whose Cheshire grin said it all. She downed the second shot, her head spinning again with confusion. Damn Addison, could she be right? It had been so long since Callie had felt – well, anything, really – that she nearly forgot what it was like. The butterflies, the shaky hands, all of the things that she'd felt when she met George and fell in love. She sat on her hands.

"Go on," Erica commanded with a smile. Mark sauntered back to the table, undeterred by the last episode, and asked for a dance partner. Addison refused, Erica shook her head, but Callie immediately decided that this was her out. She wasn't even sure if her legs would work correctly, but she knew if she stayed with the women at the table, it would only get worse.

"I will," she murmured, standing up, pausing a brief second to get her balance. She and Mark stepped onto the dance floor, Callie feeling good from the drinks and the distance from Erica – she started to let herself go, alternating from hanging on Mark to dancing solo. From the table, Callie could see Addison whispering to Erica. She desperately wanted to be a fly on that table, but more than that, she wanted out of Joe's bar. What she was feeling was not simple – but Mark Sloan, he was simple. No surprises, she knew exactly what to expect and what she would get. And she needed it tonight, to clear her head. She grabbed Mark's hand.

"Let's get out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

Chapter 3, Hahn's persepective this time (she's so much more fun to write for, which says alot about me, I guess – b/c like someone said, what we know about her can fit on a postage stamp!) – and her take on the S4 finale kiss and what happens right afterwards.

Some S5 spoilers,too, I guess, because of course us Callica fans are obsessed about what might happen come Sept. 25th. BTW, if anyone is interested, Shonda's interview on the website provides some great into about what is going to happen. Here is the address: /TV/2008/7/shondarhimes

As always, reviews are appreciated and encouraged!

Chapter 3 – How It Ends

Erica Hahn wished she was bullet-proof.

When she was a kid, she imagined herself as Superman. None of that girly Wonder Woman stuff, no invisible planes. Batman – nice gadgets, but he didn't have any innate superpower to protect himself. Spiderman – a freak accident gave him an advantage, but it was not his birth right. Superman could catch a bullet in his teeth and not worry about whiplash. Superman could fly. Superman could save the world, with morality and compassion, and still have time for a day job.

Back then, Erica pretended she was born on distant planet and landed on her parent's doorstep by accident. She had to keep her true nature a secret, but this knowledge allowed her to survive growing up with three older brothers who constantly challenged her mentally and physically. She was able to achieve perfection in everything – even the endeavors where they faltered – because she had this secret. She was invincible.

But then came medical school, which challenged her ego and lack of self-doubt like nothing ever had. She blocked out all the memories of her childhood secret – she let herself be seduced by Burke and be vulnerable. She had her heart broken. Her worldview flipped. Now, everyone was against her and she was in a constant struggle to survive. Superman because Sisyphus. She wasn't dropped in from outer space to save the human race. She _was_ the human race – the highs and lows of cardio mirroring the ups and downs of all humanity. Her ego became her biggest challenge.

Callie Torres was becoming a big part of Erica's challenges at SGH. After her Walter-Tapley-high-induced decision to kiss Callie in the elevator, while she waited nearly _a week_ for a reaction from her friend, the doubt crept in. What was she doing, kissing another doctor _in the hospital_? What message did this send not only to Mark Sloan, but to Callie? Erica knew how she felt about her friend, when she had gone home and shed her work cape, she spent most of her time thinking about Callie – her beautiful face, her laugh, wondering what she thought about the kiss. Wondering what it would be like to love someone as stupendous as Callie Torres.

The end with Callie came after Richard berated her for not teaching Yang. Yang! She wanted to tell Richard about her work persona – how she wasn't cut out to teach someone she didn't respect – but she just sat there and let Richard say his peace. She retreated inside herself.

It was at this moment of the vulnerability that Callie decided to finally make her move, cornering her outside the hospital and kissing her so softly and sweetly that Erica forgot that she was _in front of the hospital_ at all. She let herself go for a moment, the world disappeared around them and Erica hungrily kissed her back, Callie's mouth stretching into the familiar grin that Erica had come to love. She wanted to stay there forever, locked in the embrace that finally made sense. A familiar feeling washed over her – her childhood Superman fantasy – she felt bullet-proof and invincible with Callie. Everything she'd fantasized in the last few weeks was finally coming true.

When the kiss was over, Erica pulled back, the scent of Callie's perfume still filling her nostrils, and the world came slowly back into focus. Callie was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, laughing nervously. Erica gazed into her deep brown eyes, turned her head and saw Mark Sloan watching in the distance, then turned the other way and saw a group of interns pretending not to look at her and Callie. She froze. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach as if she'd been shot, and that feeling quickly chased all the good energy the kiss had supplied. She exhaled and shook her head sadly, turned on her heel and walked to her car, leaving Callie standing in the warm Seattle evening, alone.

Erica Hahn wished she was bullet-proof.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N:

The last chapter - Callie's perspective, followed by Hahn, and then…

Chapter 4 – How It Ends

Callie Torres knows that everybody knows.

Everybody knows, because Christina knows. Callie could hide from Erica, from Sloan, from _everyone _– but she couldn't hide from her roommate. She tried, at first, to play the angry music at an acceptable volume, to cry only when Christina wasn't home, to scream at the top of her lungs only when Christina was singing in the shower – but eventually, Yang was pounding on her door.

"NO MORE SOUNDGARDEN!" Yang insisted, knocking on the not-quite-closed door and causing it to open completely. Callie sat on her bed, hugging her pillow, eyes bright red. "OR I AM GOING TO…" Callie buried her fact in the pillow before Christina could notice her tears and muttered, "Just turn it down yourself then."

"Callie. Callie, are you okay?" It had been over a week, and Christina was just now catching on.

"I'm fine. Seriously."

"You don't seem fine." Yang flopped onto the bed and Callie immediately stood up and dropped the pillow.

"Okay, so I'm not fine. But it's my own thing, none of your business. Just let me be."

Christina stood up, too, understand finally the agony and the realization of the cause dawned on her. "This is that Hahn thing, isn't it? See, I told you. She's heartless, Callie. Absolutely she's the heart surgeon with no heart and –"

"Who told you?"

"Told me what? About the kiss? That's all over the hospital – you had to know, right?" Callie started to cry again. "You didn't know. Okay, I can see that now. I'm so sorry, but a bunch of interns saw it and the rumor mill – well, you know."

"I…I didn't think that anything could be worse than what George did to me," Callie sobbed. "But I think I have finally found something. And I did it to myself."

Callie never broke down at the hospital; she found a brave face to wear and pretended like she didn't hear any of the whispers. It was easier during surgeries, where she could hook up her music and jam loudly while drilling bones. Granted, some of the interns missed out on learning techniques, but she really didn't care about interns. Interns were part of the problem, acting like a bunch of teenagers, gossiping.

Lunch became a challenge, on days when Sloan wasn't around. Since the night when Erica turned on her heel and left Callie standing alone on the sidewalk, she had not seen the heart surgeon. Callie knew Erica was there – but it was as if Hahn had an invisibility cloak. Every time Callie walked into an area where she knew Erica could possibly be, no one would be there but Callie imagined the air was a little heavier, like the surgeon had just quickly left the room. Not possible, Torres. She isn't just around some corner – she's hiding _on purpose_.

Callie wasn't quite sure if she wanted to find Erica, anyway. She had completely and totally misread their friendship and ruined it. There was no miracle cure for that kind of mistake. In the cafeteria, though, she thought if she could just catch a glimpse of the blonde hair to make sure that Erica was at least _alive_ – that might be a good thing. So, on days when she ate alone and didn't have an afternoon surgery, she'd sit with her tray, jamming to tunes loudly on her iPod and wait.

She waited and waited until she couldn't wait anymore. She had imagined what she'd say if given the chance. Start with an apology. Make a joke, tell Erica that Izzie offered to kick Callie's ass in front of everyone for Hahn, if she wanted. Apologize some more, tell her it was a mistake and it would never happen again. No big deal, people would forget. She vowed not to dwell on one basic fact – and that fact was that Erica had kissed her back. It wasn't one-sided; something had clicked that night – something wonderful and unique and new and scary and awesome. But Callie would not mention it. She'd just keep that to herself, which would be difficult for her to do. She had no choice. Her sanity required it.

Erica Hahn also knows that everybody knows.

She also knows that she pushed it all too far – counting on Callie to continue being Callie, even though everything she'd done up until the kiss in the parking lot had led Callie on. Erica wasn't shocked. She wasn't tormented. She wasn't sorry, either. It had been such an amazing ride; she forgot how fun pure flirting could be. What Erica Hahn was, though, was scared.

After the parking lot, Erica had struggled to walk to her car, her knees weak and her head aching. The tears she'd shed after Richard dressed her down in front of Yang resurfaced, this time accompanied by violent shaking. She was too old to be feeling like this, like screwing up one relationship was the end of the world. But she felt so empty. She cried herself to sleep.

The next day, she didn't have any surgeries. She arrived at the hospital extra early and slipped into her office unbeknownst to anyone. And she stayed there all day, reviewing the pile of journals that had been building up over the past few weeks. And she enjoyed it so much, she did the same thing the next day. And the next. The exciting thing about being a heart surgeon was that innovations were being made on a daily basis, and she found that if she could concentrate on the straight facts and science, she wouldn't be tempted to wonder if Callie was at the hospital that day, and who she was eating lunch with.

On Thursday, when she got paged in for a surgery, she took the back stairs and did her work as quickly and efficiently as possible. She barely registered the stares of various interns, but Christina Yang was a particular problem. She must know, Erica thought, since she's not saying word on to me. Yang was not one to be quiet. And her eyes were like daggers as Erica finished sewing up the chest cavity. Christina waited until they were alone in the room.

"Dr. Hahn?"

"Yang."

"Look, I'm not a cheerleader. I'm not going to take sides here, but we both know what is going on. Callie is – well, Callie – look, we're not friends, she and I – but we have found a common ground lately. What I am trying to say is –"

"Just _say it, YANG_!"

Christina looked down at her feet, thinking, and then suddenly, eyes blazing, she met Erica's towering gaze. "She needs to talk to you. That is all."

Erica had a close Callie call, about a week later, in an on-call room. She had decided to take a break, untie her shoes and relax between consults when she heard Torres in the hallway – she couldn't miss that voice, it was haunting her – and the voice kept getting closer. The door opened but Erica had quickly retied her shoes and hid in a shower stall. She didn't even consider how ridiculous it was for the attending cardiothoracic surgeon to be hiding from her best friend in a shower stall, fully clothed.

Callie paused when she entered the room, but quickly went to her locker to get her bag, and left. Erica breathed a sigh of relief and exited the shower. She busied herself at her locker, planning her escape route back to her office – she figured if she waited a few minutes, she could dash to the bank of elevators down the hall and hopefully not be seen. She turned on her heel toward the door, and ran smack into Callie Torres, blocking the door with crossed arms and a lineman's stance.

"Erica," Callie said, lowly. Erica met her gaze after regaining her balance.

"Callie!"

"Were you…hiding from me?"

"No! No, I was just…shit. Okay, I was hiding. I – "

"I knew it! Look, I just want to apologize, this whole thing is my fault. If I had just - "

Callie's eyes did this thing when she was truly sorry, softening around the edges and becoming a little watery – Erica could barely stand it. It was the same look she'd had way back when Erica warned her about being an honest friend about Mark Sloan. It was something Erica could not resist.

Erica grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers. "No, it's not your fault. I want you so badly, you have no idea. All these little flirting games, it's all my fault. Callie, I have never felt this way – and I'm violating my rules all over the place because of you. Of us. It's just going to take me some time, time to figure out how I can live in both worlds and not go fucking crazy."

Callie sat down on the bench, her body slumping forward in relief.

"I have time," she said. "I just need to know we are in this together, Erica. I was so scared, I was ready to let it all go and pretend it never happened."

"We don't need to pretend. We're not anything but human, it's just going to take me a little while to get used to the idea that I am human, and that I love another human."

Erica leaned down and tugged Callie's hair back, slowly kissing her lips. Callie eagerly reciprocated, biting lightly on Erica's lower lip and moaning. When the kiss broke, Callie leaned back and smiled her million-dollar, irresistible grin.

"Love," she said. "I can do that."


End file.
